


Oh Are Ee Oh

by Iocane



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cookies, Cute, Fluff, M/M, Minor angst over cookies, Oreos, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Sleepy mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 17:43:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iocane/pseuds/Iocane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg's not home, and Mycroft has a cookie incident.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh Are Ee Oh

**Author's Note:**

> [This prompt](http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/21231.html?thread=125118447#t125118447) got slightly trolled (it's been deleted) and I just couldn't let that stand.  So this happened!

Caring is not an advantage.

Caring was also, Mycroft was fast learning, not a bloody choice.

It was 3 am and Greg was still at work. Before he'd moved in, Mycroft slept alone just fine. Now it was … difficult.

Finally giving up on the idea of sleep, he donned a dressing gown and made his way to the kitchen.

He poured himself a glass of milk and fetched the Oreo biscuits from their hiding place.

He recalled, with a sleepy smile, when Greg had first educated him as to the proper way of eating them.

'You can't just _eat_ them, My,' the Yarder had told him. So Mycroft dutifully twisted the biscuit in his long fingers. In a silly way, licking the cream off made it feel like Greg was right here and his insides ached just a bit less.

Left with two chocolate biscuits, Mycroft pinched one neatly between thumb and forefinger, leaving the most exposed area possible for dunking. Propping his head on his hand, he watched through bleary eyes as he dipped the biscuit, up to the tips of his fingers, into the milk.

He didn't realize he fell asleep until a splash of milk against his hand woke him. Lifting his hand he realized he had little more than a pinch of biscuit. With a growl he automatically dipped his fingers into the milk in search of the missing biscuit.

It wasn't until a drop slid down the outside of the glass that he realized the futility of his actions and sighed. He now sat forlornly in the kitchen, one biscuit half dissolving at the bottom of a glass, the other sitting de-creamed on the table, and his hand coated with milk.

He heard a sound to his left and started, face going pink at the idea of one of his staff catching him thus.

"Jesus, My," Greg's voice was raspy with fatigue and warm with affection. "You really don't get on well without me, do you?"

Mycroft relaxed, all the tension of the night draining from his body as Greg slid off his jacket and draped it over a chair. He picked up the other biscuit half and dunked it expertly.

Expecting Greg to eat it himself, Mycroft's eyes widened a little when the biscuit came at his mouth, though he opened up, too tired to even nip at Greg's fingers.

"Come on, love, up to bed." 


End file.
